Return
by MissMoony7575
Summary: Marik Ishtar, after Battle City, has turned over a new leaf. No more villainy for him, just an ordinary life. Then, a certain white-haired thief returns from the grave and turns his world upside down. Thiefshipping Yami BakuraxMarik .
1. Chapter 1

Ok, so this is my first Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction :). I hope you guys like it, and I'm sorry if some things from the canon don't add up! Here in Australia, they didn't show us past Bakura/Yami Marik's duel in Battle City so I have no idea about what happened after the Pharaoh defeated Yami Marik. If I've got anything wrong, please review and tell me!

Have fun reading!

-Lauren

x.x.x

If anything now, Marik Ishtar's life had been reduced to boring routine. Endless cycles of actions and thoughts, with no excitement, no spontaneity, no purpose. Once, he dreamed of enacting his revenge on the Pharaoh – thought up evil plans, took part in dangerous shadow duels, put his life on the line, got his body taken over by his even more evil alter ego... life was exciting. Now, it was a mind-numbing bore.

Some days, Marik thought that this boring life was good. He was not about to die or get his soul thrown into the Shadow Realm. He would not be brutally thrown from his seat of power in his soul room by Yami Marik. He would not lose control of his body, he would not commit murders, he would not get into trouble with the authorities. Marik liked to plan things ahead – surely, then, routine would suit him nicely? Where every day of his life was set out and planned, he thought this was what he wanted. Sometimes he longed for it – while trapped inside Bakura's head in that final Battle City duel, all he wanted was to be able to control his life, to defeat life at its own crazy game.

Now, he realised that he didn't want this at all.

What Marik wanted? He had no idea.

He sighed. There was no point thinking about things he couldn't change. Right now, he was stuck in Japan, with Ishizu and Odion, stuck in school until the end of this year.

It was night, and time for Marik's before-bed routine. He stood in front of his bathroom mirror and slowly took off all his jewellery. First, the earrings, then the necklace, arm bands, bracelets. They glimmered under the halogen lights and clinked together as he put them away in the second drawer down. He took a towel, wet it in cold water, and washed his face, rubbing his eyes until all of the eyeliner came off. He drank a glass of water, then filled it up again and put it on his bedside, in case he was thirsty during the night. (Inevitably, he would wake at exactly 3:42 am and take two big gulps, fall back to sleep, then finish the rest off in the morning). Then, he took off his shirt and changed into his white silk boxers, of which he had 7 – one for each day of the week. He shut the window and locked it. Finally, he climbed into bed, pulled the covers over himself.

Ten minutes later he was fast asleep.

x.x.x

Marik woke with a start. Oh, did he mention that nightmares were part of his routine too? Every single bloody night, the same one, over and over again.

_He was struggling through a dark, thorny maze. The sky overhead was almost black with clouds. A loud cackling in the distance, then it came closer, closer, closer, until someone was laughing with menace right in his ear and he could feel their hot breath; Marik spun around and it was his alter ego, laughing at him, towering over him, haphazard hair spiked in every which direction. Marik screamed..._

And woke in a cold sweat. The time on the digital clock beside him was predictable – 3:42 am. He took two big gulps, shook himself out of the dream, and curled up again. Usually he was able to get back to sleep easily. Tonight, however, he tossed and turned. Something was not quite right.

_Nonsense,_ he thought, dismissing his ill-at-ease feelings. The nightmare had shaken him – that was all. He took deep breaths and closed his eyes.

Still, he couldn't get to sleep. Marik's brow furrowed. What was wrong...?

Involuntarily, he shivered. There it was! He was cold. Why, though... he didn't know. He pulled the blankets tighter around him, and willed himself to sleep. Of course it didn't work.

Marik tried counting sheep. He got to about 200 before it was too much. He screamed into the pillow, curled his fists and turned over viciously. A few seconds later he threw the blankets violently from him and stormed into the bathroom.

He looked at his reflection in the mirror and scowled. He turned the tap on, cupped some water in his hands, and threw it over his face. He dried his face, shivered a little in the cold, and marched back to bed.

Then he saw it.

The window was open, the sheer white curtain flapping slightly in the breeze... no wonder he was cold! The nights in Japan were chilly, far from the humid, sticky nights of Egypt. He walked over to the window and closed it, content.

As he locked it, he was hit with a wave of panic. Hadn't he closed and locked the window before he had gone to sleep?

'Honestly, Marik, for a supposed evil mastermind you are incredibly slow on the uptake,' a familiar raspy voice drawled. Marik froze, a shiver running down his spine. He knew that voice...

From the shadows emerged a figure with a mass of silvery white hair, with strong shadows carved across his face and gold jewellery glinting at his chest.

Marik took a step back.

'Bakura...' he whispered.

'Oh, so you remember me now. Good,' said Bakura, smiling.

Marik took a moment to take everything in. Bakura was the same as ever... yet slightly different. He still wore the Millennium Ring – obviously. The same blue and white striped t-shirt – it was so simple, Marik would never wear something like that – yet it suited Bakura for some reason. A dark blue shirt above it, unbuttoned, worn with dashing nonchalance. Same deathly white skin, same piercing brown eyes. There were slight changes – last time they had met, Bakura and Marik had been about the same height and build – tall and slender. Now, Bakura had grown more than a couple of inches and filled out. Marik saw the curved muscles in Bakura's forearms, and how his shirt didn't drape as easily as before, stuck slightly on – were those abs? Marik gulped. Bakura had definitely put on some muscle. Marik was faintly jealous.

'What do you want?' Marik asked defensively. His last encounter with the spirit had been under the heat of a Shadow Duel, and they... well, they hadn't fought, but they hadn't left on good terms.

'Can't a friend come to visit his friend once in a while?' Bakura asked teasingly.

'You're not my friend,' Marik spat.

'Come on, now you're acting like one of Yugi's minions. I suppose you're rooting for the good side now? You're not friends with big, bad, Bakura.'

'No, especially not when you break into my bedroom in the middle of the night!' said Marik passionately.

'It was hardly a break in,' said Bakura. 'I mean, the bloody window could have been unlocked by a child.'

'How did you get here?' Marik asked, changing the subject. He was embarrassed that his security had been so lax.

'Well, I walked down your street, found your house, climbed up the wall, unlocked the window...'

'No, I mean, how did _you_ get _here_? Didn't you get sent to the Shadow Realm?'

'Well that's an interesting story. There I was, living in the darkness – quite enjoying it, mind you – and suddenly I'm jolted back to earth. I looked around me – it was some sort of tent in the desert. My host? Some foolish archaeologist, I suppose, with the Millennium Ring around his neck. Of course I took the chance. He was far too useless to do anything as a host, so I sucked the life out of him, and using that, brought back into creation my original body.'

'Oh,' said Mark simply. 'So why are you here again?'

'For you, of course,' said Bakura, smirking.

'W-What does that mean?' Marik asked. He slapped himself internally. Had he just stuttered? That was incredibly un-evil-mastermind-like.

'Well...' started Bakura. He took a few steps toward Marik, Marik took a few steps backward. 'You see...' Marik stepped back again, but found himself backed up against the wall. 'I had a choice to make. In the end, it was a toss-up between you and Kaiba. Seto's smart, hell knows he's smarter than you, but you know, he also has that annoying little kid brother...'

'W-What are you talking about?' There was that stutter again. Bakura took a few more steps forward, Marik could feel his heart starting to pump faster and faster.

'I needed some help, let's just say.'

'Big bastard like you, needing help?' Marik teased.

Bakura was so close now, that Marik could feel his breath. He flattened himself up against the wall. Bakura was definitely taller than him now – half a head, almost. Bakura looked down at Marik with playful brown eyes. He was enjoying this.

'Now now,' chastised Bakura, 'that wasn't very nice.' He looked threatening. Marik could feel the cold metal of the Millennium Ring against his bare chest.

Marik scowled up at Bakura.

'What help?' he asked.

'You really are stupid,' said Bakura. 'Don't you understand? If an archaeologist had retrieved the Millennium Ring, that means the Pharoah's tomb has been opened again. Which means, the rest of the Millennium items are up for the taking.'

Marik's head was spinning. Bakura was not dead – he was here now, in his room. And now he wanted Marik to help him steal the Millennium items? Marik thought his life of crime was over!

'No,' said Marik, trying to be assertive. 'I won't help you.'

'Why ever not?' Bakura asked sweetly.

'I'm done! I'm over that! I left that all behind,' said Marik passionately.

'You can't leave your past behind,' Bakura said.

'Yeah well, I did,' argued Marik. 'And I'm not going to help you. No way. Sorry.'

'Who said you had a choice?' Bakura asked evilly.

Before Marik could react, Bakura grabbed his neck and lifted him up, then slammed him against the wall. Marik's heart began to race. He should have seen this coming. He struggled and tried to pry Bakura's fingers away from his neck, but did not succeed.

'Let – me – go!' Marik gasped.

'No, I don't think I will,' said Bakura calmly.

Marik's mind began to swim, purple blotches appeared in his vision.

'Now, listen to me,' said Bakura slowly. Marik tried to scream but all that came out was a raspy exhalation.

'Help!' Marik whispered weakly.

'Oh, fine, I suppose you can't help me if you're dead,' said Bakura, irritated. He let go of Marik and turned away in disgust. Marik collapsed against the wall, and breathed in and out quickly. He rubbed his neck, and felt bruises forming.

'Now, then...'

Bakura was interrupted by a fist making contact with his stomach. Marik had just punched him.

Marik felt a twang of pain in his knuckles – yes, Bakura now had abs. Ouch.

Taken by surprise, Bakura was knocked back. Marik tried to take advantage of this and ducked around him, but Bakura grabbed him around the waist and pulled him back.

'Where do you think you're going, huh?' Bakura asked, flicking out his knife and holding it to Marik's neck. The blade made Marik shiver, and he could feel the Millennium Ring at his back, digging into his scars. He let out a gasp of pain as Bakura nicked his neck with the tip of the blade. Blood began to seep out of the wound.

'Honestly, Marik, I'm beginning to think I should've gone with Seto instead,' drawled Bakura. 'I mean, I thought you'd be all up for it. You used to be an evil little mastermind, nothing compared to me of course, but you had potential. Your alter ego, whoa! He was a thousand times better than you. Unfortunately he's gone now... Anyway, you're quite disappointing. I thought you'd at least be able to put up a decent fight.'

'Fuck you,' Marik hissed. He struggled a little, but Bakura was too strong.

'Feisty,' said Bakura, chuckling. 'Now...' He released Marik and looked him in the eye. Marik wiped the blood from his neck, looking haggard.

Marik went in for one last blow – aiming for Bakura's jaw. Bakura caught his wrist as fast as lightning, twisted it behind Marik's back, and slammed him up against the wall. Marik turned to one side so that he wouldn't break his nose on the wall.

'Stop fucking around,' said Bakura menacingly. He twisted Marik's arm upwards. Marik yelped with pain, Bakura just smiled.

'Let me go,' breathed Marik desperately.

'What, so you can try to punch me again?' asked Bakura. 'I've had enough of your games for one night.' With his free hand Bakura took out some rope from his pocket, and tied Marik's wrists tightly together. He took out his knife again, and pressed it against Marik's neck.

'This time I won't hesitate about slitting your throat,' said Bakura. 'Now sit down,' he ordered harshly. Bakura, with his free hand, dragged over a chair. Marik sat down slowly. Bakura yanked Marik's arms around the back of the chair. He took his knife away and stepped around the other side.

He sat face to face on Marik's lap, holding him down with his weight, and used some more rope to tie Marik to the back of the chair. Satisfied that he was secure, Bakura stepped away.

'I hate you,' said Marik angrily. He struggled slightly, but there was no give in the ropes at all.

'I'm sure,' said Bakura, bored. 'I didn't know you'd be so desperate to fight back. Lucky I came prepared, hm?'

'You dickhead,' said Marik.

'So I realise that it's going to take a little bit more to convince you...' Bakura said. 'Alright then.' Bakura stepped over to the corner of the room, where a small bag lay. He unzipped it, taking out a small electronic item with a red LED display screen and multiple coiled wires.

'What's that?' asked Marik.

'Honestly, sometimes I wonder where your stupidity ends,' said Bakura, sighing. 'It's a bomb.'

Marik gulped. Was Bakura going to blow the whole place up?

'Oh, don't worry, I won't set it off, so long as you do exactly what I say. Well, Marik, don't you love modern technology? I have a remote for it, so that I can set it off at any time I wish. Of course, I wouldn't want to hurt your dear Odion and Ishizu, but if you don't obey me, I will be forced to. Do you understand? Now I'm going to hide it somewhere in your house. One wrong move, Marik, and I will blow this whole bloody place up. See you soon!' Bakura took the bomb and walked quietly out of Marik's bedroom.

Marik started to panic. The entire thing had gone to hell. He was well and truly screwed, now. Bakura had complete control over him, and he was just a plaything. Marik was angry at himself and angry at Bakura. He struggled violently against the ropes, but to no avail.

'Now, now, don't get into any trouble, or there might be an explosion,' said Bakura, shutting the door quietly behind him as he returned.

'Why do you need me?' Marik asked.

'I don't need you, per se, but stealing all the items again would be a hell of a lot easier with two people,' said Bakura. 'I'll explain anyway. One, I need a scapegoat to blame it on in case the whole thing gets fucked up – I don't wish to be spending any time in jail. Two, various plans I have in mind won't work with one person. Finally, every hero needs a sidekick, right?' Bakura laughed.

'You're sick,' said Marik.

'I would call it brilliant, but sure, I can be sick if you want me to be,' said Bakura, stepping a little closer and pressing his knife to Marik's neck. Marik's Adam's apple bobbed furiously as he gulped. Secretly, Marik was terrified, but he didn't want Bakura to know.

'Leave me alone,' spat Marik, trying to be brave.

'No,' said Bakura. 'Now, we'll be flying off to Egypt in about a weeks' time... problem is we need some money.'

'I don't have any money!' Marik protested.

'Neither do I,' said Bakura, laughing. 'The ticket's a couple of thousand bucks, though, so we're going to have to get the money together quick smart before they close the excavation site. I'll steal my share, you get yours.'

'How the hell am I going to get a couple of thousand bucks in one week?' Marik asked angrily.

'I don't know, you tell me. If you don't have it... boom.' Bakura's eyes twinkled with glee.

'No, I can't do it!' Marik said desperately.

'Oh fine, you little baby,' said Bakura. 'I'll come up with a heist that we can both pull off, for the money.'

'What the hell am I going to tell Odion and Ishizu?' asked Marik.

'Use your imagination, Marik,' said Bakura. 'Write them a note, saying that you had to run away, or that there's a school trip to Australia, or something like that.'

'Fine,' said Marik, defeated. He would have to give in to this madman if he wanted to keep Odion and Ishizu safe. 'Anything else?'

'Not really,' said Bakura. 'I guess I'll untie you, but I'll be seeing you again tomorrow.'

Bakura cut the ropes with his knife, and Marik shook them off and stood up. Bakura collected the ropes off the floor, and stuffed them into his bag.

'Now, behave yourself, Marik,' warned Bakura. 'And remember...'

Bakura took a step towards Marik and cupped Marik's chin in his hand. Marik shivered with terror, or something else.

'I'm the one in charge here.'

Swiftly, Bakura was out the window and gone. Marik stood still for a moment, shell shocked. Then he punched the wall with his fists in frustration. He was in deep trouble, now. Bakura had come and turned his entire routine life upside down.

...Was that necessarily a bad thing? Is this what Marik wanted, what he ached for in the long days of repetition?

Marik didn't know.

x.x.x

Review?


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks everybody for the reviews :) Here's chapter 2!

Hope you like it!

-Lauren

x.x.x

Marik woke with a start. The morning chill made him shiver slightly. As he turned over, he realised that it was 8:34 am. He was late!

Marik hurtled out of bed, put on some clothes, downed his breakfast in one bite, and ran out the door. What was happening? Why was he late? Marik Ishtar was a model student of perfect punctuality. He was never late.

Then it all came rushing back to him. Last night, Bakura...

He was interrupted by a voice calling out his name.

'Marik, where are you going?' Ishizu called out after him. Marik quickly chomped the rest of his food.

'I'm going to school!' he replied, about to rush off.

'Marik, it's Saturday!' Ishizu said, puzzled. Her brother was certainly acting very strange today.

'Oh,' said Marik. Laughing slightly at himself, he returned to his house. Ishizu flicked him affectionately on the side of the head.

'You're so silly,' she said, ruffling his hair.

'Ok, I'm going back to sleep,' Marik announced. Quite happy it was Saturday, and still feeling tired, he walked sleepily back into his room, accidentally banging his back on the doorknob as he closed it.

A jolt of pain ran up and down Marik's back. He tried not to shout. Marik gently touched his back, and the skin whined in protest, causing him to bite his lip in pain. Horrified, as Marik headed to the bathroom, he saw that he was black and blue all over. Beneath his golden necklace, purple bruises festered. His back had random dark blotches across it, and his wrists were red and raw.

Marik cursed.

Bakura had really screwed him over last night.

Shaking his head, Marik decided to go back to bed and see if he hurt less in a couple of hours. He curled up in the blankets and let sleep drift over him.

'And what the fuck do you think you're doing?' Bakura's voice wafted across the room and made Marik's ears ring. Marik cursed. He had almost fallen asleep.

'What do you want?' Marik asked, pulling the blankets over his head and refusing to get out of bed. Maybe if he refused to cooperate, Bakura would leave him alone.

'I've got the plans here. Get out of bed!' Bakura barked.

Marik whined and turned over in bed, away from Bakura. He was so tired, and hurting all over.

'Oi, I said get out of bed!' Bakura ripped the blankets from Marik and tugged at his hair.

'Ouch, ouch, ok!' said Marik, stepping out of bed. Bakura dragged him over to the table by his hair, Marik wincing in pain.

'Here's the plan,' said Bakura, handing him a folded piece of paper as he sat down.

Marik unfolded the paper, and read its contents carefully. He re-read it once, twice, his disbelief increasing.

'You've got to be fucking kidding me,' said Marik.

'Nope,' said Bakura, stretching his arms behind his head and leaning back proudly.

'All this damn piece of paper says is "rob Seto Kaiba"!' Marik shouted.

'So what?' Bakura said, relaxed. 'That's the plan.'

'So you're just going to waltz up the Kaiba Corp. Headquarters, and rob Seto bloody Kaiba, huh?' Marik asked, enraged.

'Basically,' said Bakura.

'Do you have any sort of plan?' Marik asked.

'Nope,' said Bakura.

'You're going to get us arrested and chucked in jail!' Marik exclaimed.

'Oh, come on,' said Bakura. 'Give me at least a _little_ credit. They don't call me the Thief King for nothing, you know.'

'You're not a bloody thief king, you're a delinquent! Kaiba has the best security in this entire country!' Marik complained.

'And I have the stickiest fingers in the entire world,' said Bakura, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

'Okay, fine,' said Marik, crossing his arms. 'You want to rob Kaiba, you go ahead. I'm not part of this.'

'Oh, but you are. Don't you remember the bomb, Marik?

'I'm not robbing Kaiba,' said Marik firmly.

'Well have you got any better ideas?' asked Bakura, irritated.

'Look, can we just take some time out to plan this?' Marik asked. Here was Marik's perfectionist, control freak side showing once again. Marik liked to plan. Bakura liked to dash in unprepared.

'_You_ can take some time out to plan this,' said Bakura huffily. 'I hate planning.'

'No surprises there, I love planning and I hate you too,' bitched Marik. 'Ok, so have you thought further than getting to Egypt?'

'No,' said Bakura, resting his feet on the table and looking bored.

'So we're just going to get there and wing it as we go along?' Marik asked.

'Basically.'

'Are we going to book a hotel room? How long will we be staying there? How are we going to get back? What are we going to eat?' Marik asked. Even though he wouldn't admit it, the planning made him excited. He had completely forgotten that he had been manipulated into this plan. There was something to look forward to in the future. Planning made Marik feel alive.

'I have no bloody idea!' said Bakura, becoming irritable. He forgot how anal Marik could be.

'First of all, how much do two tickets to Egypt cost?' Marik had whipped out a notepad and had titled the page: "EGYPT TRIP" in big, curly letters which Bakura looked at in disgust. Under that was a subtitle saying "tickets".

'Couple of thousand bucks,' Bakura said, shrugging.

'Exactly how much?' Marik asked.

'Bloody hell, Marik, how the hell would I know?' Bakura asked angrily.

Marik jumped up to get his laptop and looked up the prices for two return tickets to Cairo.

'$4570 USD,' Marik muttered as he wrote.

'Can't we just steal the money and head off?' Bakura asked.

'No!' protested Marik. 'Ok, now, hotels? Which one do you want to stay at? How long are we staying?'

After an hour of Marik's planning, Marik declared happily,

'Okay, done!'

Bakura breathed a sigh of relief. He had been getting more and more irritated. Marik's incessant questions had driven him quite mad. Bakura was never one for planning – he liked to wing it as he went along.

'The total amount of money we'll need is... $8025, if we're staying for three weeks, for the plane tickets, hotel rooms, including food – breakfast lunch and dinner – but you can't pig out, $200 for the car hire, and let's just add another $200 for other expenses... so... $8225.'

'How about we just steal a round $10,000?' Bakura asked.

'And how do you propose to do that?' Marik asked,

Bakura simply pointed at the piece of paper.

'Absolutely not!' Marik said firmly. 'We'll need to plan it out...'

'Oh, to hell with the planning, Marik!' growled Bakura. 'I'm sick of it, and I'm hungry,' he complained.

'I'm afraid there isn't anything in the house at the moment,' said Marik. 'Ishizu usually goes out to get the groceries sometime this evening, and I'm not usually too hungry.'

'Figures,' said Bakura, snorting, grabbing Marik's arm. 'You're all skin and bone, anyway. What are you, anorexic?' he asked.

'No!' Marik said, offended.

'Well I'm hungry, and I'm going out to eat something,' Bakura declared.

'Fine, I'll come with you,' Marik said, putting away his notebook and gathering his things. 'Don't you dare do anything crazy in public, like pulling your knife on me or anything,' Marik warned.

'I'll try to behave myself,' Bakura teased.

As they left, Bakura turned back to Marik and added,

'By the way, I didn't ask you to come with me,' with a smirk adorning his handsome face. 'Guess you're quite eager for this plan, despite me forcing you into it,' he said playfully, leaning in closer to Marik. Marik felt heart quicken slightly. 'I knew there was still some evil in you,' said Bakura, ruffling Marik's sandy blonde hair in a mock fatherly way.

Marik suddenly imagined a tangle of limbs, and Bakura running his hand through his hair...

He shook his head and followed Bakura out the door.

x.x.x

'I just need to stop at the bank quickly,' said Marik.

'Got $10,000 in your account by any chance?' Bakura asked, pretending to be innocent.

'No fucking way,' said Marik. 'You're not getting a cent out of me.' They stepped into the bank, which had shiny polished floors and great marble columns. People's shoes click clacked on the floor and the whole place screamed 'money'.

Bakura followed Marik closer, and Marik could feel his warm breath on the back of his neck. Bakura slung an arm over Marik's shoulder, and Marik felt slightly trapped.

'You know,' Bakura whispered in his ear, 'I could just pull a gun on you right now, use you as a hostage to rob this place, and we'd have our ten thousand bucks, easy peasy.'

'Don't you dare,' Marik hissed. He pushed Bakura's arm off and crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. He got in line and tapped his foot impatiently. Bakura stood beside him, resting his elbow on Marik's shoulder and standing with his weight to one side.

'This is going to take a long time,' Bakura groaned.

'Why don't you just go to the shops next door or something?' Marik asked, irritated.

'What's there to buy? I don't have any money, anyway, so I'd have to steal.'

'Actually, you'd make a scene, and that would be bad,' said Marik.

'I would not make a scene,' Bakura argued, offended. 'I'd get away scot-free. I'm the Thief King. What's a little shoplifting to me?'

'Oh?' said Marik. 'It's not Ancient Egypt, you know, the art of stealing has evolved. There are bloody CCTV cameras everywhere. It's a whole different ball game now. You can't just outrun the guys shouting "thief!"'

'Thievery is the same in any age,' said Bakura, nonplussed. 'It's a battle of wits and talent. Nothing more, nothing less. And since I have both in copious amounts...'

'You're so full of it,' said Marik.

'Oh, and have you stolen anything recently?' Bakura asked.

'Keep your voice down,' hissed Marik.

'Have you?' Bakura whispered.

'No, I told you I was finished with all of that!'

'You keep saying that, and it intrigues me,' said Bakura. 'Why the sudden change of heart?'

'Why do you want to know?' Marik asked, sighing. Bakura was wearing his patience thin.

'Because it's a mystery to me,' said Bakura. 'You were so devious in Battle City, it was actually quite impressive, then your evil side takes it all one notch higher, we get defeated, and suddenly you're a goody two shoes and pals with the Pharaoh,' Bakura said.

'I didn't see the point of it anymore,' said Marik, honestly. 'Why blame the Pharaoh for my shit childhood? He's a guy that's been dead a couple of thousand years, and has really had nothing to do with me living in a tomb for half my life. Plus, Yugi's quite nice,' said Marik.

'Oh, you've been won over by the charms of Yugi,' Bakura teased.

'No,' said Marik. 'I just don't hate the Pharaoh. He was the one who defeated my dark side, you know.'

'So now he's your saviour,' said Bakura mischievously. 'Well, you know, I could've beaten him, if only you'd actually told me about that bloody God card.'

'Not my fault,' Marik said defensively.

'Was your fault,' Bakura argued.

'Was not!'

Bakura shook his head in annoyance.

'Anyway, even if you don't hate the Pharaoh anymore, what about other evil plans? You were a pretty good thief, not as good as me, but you managed to nab those God cards using those Rare Hunters of yours.'

'I don't know,' said Marik. 'I never found the passion to pull anything off. Plus, I found out how nice it was to have a simple life.'

'God, you sound like a country bumpkin,' complained Bakura. 'What the hell do you mean by a simple life?'

'You know,' said Marik thoughtfully, 'Just buy a nice house, find someone you love, live normally. Have breakfast together and watch reruns. Go to the movies, go shopping. Drive to work. Have holidays every now and again. Go to sleep with the one you love.'

'The one you love? What the hell are you going on about? You hiding a girl from me?' Bakura asked. 'Probably Tea or something, knowing you. You like that? Do those friendship speeches turn you on?' Bakura teased.

'No! Hell no!' said Marik, slapping Bakura on the arm.

'Well then what the hell are you talking about?' Bakura said.

'I don't know, I just like the idea of getting a steady job and settling down someday.'

'You sound like a fucking moron,' Bakura said. 'What about ultimate power, wealth, revenge?'

'Those things are difficult,' said Marik. 'I don't need it. I have a nice life now, with Odion and Ishizu. I go to school and do my work, and I've made friends with Yugi and stuff, too. Well, I had a nice life until you turned up yesterday night.'

'My pleasure,' said Bakura wickedly. 'I like to turn things upside down.'

'I've noticed,' said Marik, rolling his eyes.

'Don't you get bored of your "simple life"?' Bakura asked.

'Not really,' lied Marik, smiling slightly. 'It's nice.' Little did Bakura know he'd been living through insufferable boredom all these days.

'That's it, you've gone totally soft,' said Bakura, disgusted.

'I have not,' said Marik. 'I've just realised things.'

'Allow me to go to the bathroom so that I can throw up,' said Bakura, removing his arm from Marik and walking swiftly off. Marik shook his head. His old partner had not changed one bit at all, but then again, Marik was kind of glad for it. If Bakura had changed, he probably wouldn't even be here now. If he had been content with his life in the Millennium Ring, simply living in people's memories for eternity... he wouldn't be back for his deadly revenge.

'HANDS UP!' a gruff voice shouted.

It all happened so fast that Marik didn't even realise what was going on. Five black figures, all in balaclavas, were pointing guns at the people in the bank.

It was a hold-up.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey, the hold up continues :)

Also, I decided to start a series of thiefshipping oneshots, I'd really love it if you guys checked it out :). It's called **Thief!** You can get to it via my profile :). The first oneshot is set in Ancient Egypt, AU :).

Hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

-Lauren

x.x.x

Marik's heart rate quickened as he raised his hands, feeling the panic coursing through his veins. This was unexpected, and Marik hated unexpected. Where was Bakura, anyway? He felt oddly vulnerable without the taller boy around.

'REMOVE YOUR CELL PHONES!'

Everyone in the bank reached into their pockets or bags and took out their mobiles.

'PUT THEM ON THE FLOOR!' the armed man ordered.

The people complied. The other men swept the entire place, picking up the mobile phones and scaring people by pointing the guns at them.

'LIE DOWN, FACE DOWN, ON THE FLOOR!'

The entire bank dropped to its knees and lay down on the floor, as ordered.

'Lock this place down!' the man ordered his companions. Quickly they locked the front doors, closed the bars that the bank used to lock the place down at night, and secured all the exits.

'Mark, go round that side, round up the guys in the toilets.'

One of the men in black nodded and walked over to the toilets.

Bakura was in the toilets, thought Marik, slightly panicked. Well, there was nothing that he could do about it anyway. He was lying face down on the floor while these crazy thieves were holding up a bank.

Soon, the man was back from the bathroom. Marik stole a look, and saw that he had brought out a couple of crying ladies and one businessman. No sign of Bakura.

Marik was scared. What had happened to Bakura? Where was he?

He had bigger things to worry about when he felt his back being prodded by something heavy. A gun.

'Don't move, boy,' the man ordered. Marik felt his blood run cold. He couldn't die – not now! He was only 17 years old!

In the distance he heard one of the other men threatening a teller.

'Get me all the money you have!' he shouted.

'I-I can't!' cried the teller desperately. She burst into tears. The man rolled his eyes and reached over, grabbed her collar and pulled her over the stall to his side. He pointed a gun at her forehead.

'Stop your sobbing,' he ordered.

'I can't give you the money!' she whimpered. 'It's all locked away, after every transaction.'

'Locked away where?' the man asked savagely.

'Behind here!' the woman said, desperately, pointing back to the stall.

'Well then fucking open it,' he said viciously.

'I can't! I don't have the key code! I can only put money in through the slits, not take any out! Please!' she cried.

'Who has the key code?' he asked, pressing the gun closer against her head.

'Only the manager!' she screamed.

'Where is the manager?' he asked.

'I don't know!'

The man sighed.

'Boys, looks like this is going to have to be a hostage stakeout after all,' he called out to his men. He heard screams and crying from the general public, but ignored it.

'Boss, there's police surrounding the building,' said one of his associate thieves.

'Fuck,' said the guy in charge. 'This level is too damn exposed. We'll have to go upstairs.'

The other guys nodded.

"The Boss" released the bank teller, throwing her roughly to the ground.

'We have to move all the hostages upstairs too,' he said. 'Take it slowly,' he ordered. 'One mistake and this whole thing could be ruined.'

The other thieves nodded again, and got to business.

'EVERYBODY ON YOUR FEET!' the boss shouted. 'I WANT TO SEE THOSE HANDS OF YOURS UP IN THE AIR!'

Slowly the people rose. Marik was still wondering about where Bakura was. As he got to his feet, he took a quick look around. There was no sign of the white-haired thief anywhere. Had he managed to escape?

After much threatening and prodding with guns, the entire place had been moved upstairs. Upstairs were a couple of conference rooms that they were forced into. The thieves stood in the doorways with their guns, guarding them from escape.

Marik was huddled on the ground next to a businessman that was hyperventilating, and a bunch of teenage girls that whimpered every couple of seconds. The fear in the room was palpable.

Pity, Marik thought, he used to be the one instilling this kind of fear in others. If he had his Millennium Rod, he could control the mind of the thieves and let all the people escape. He would be a saviour. His life would not be in danger.

Marik cursed. He had stopped his evil plans because he didn't always want to be constantly endangered. What did a normal, boring life throw at him? A bank hold up.

And this wasn't like the one in the movies – there were no secret CIA agents among them or anyone brave or stupid enough to fight back. Marik certainly wasn't. There was nothing he could do anyway – he was unarmed, and any move he made could get himself and the other occupants of the room shot to death.

It seemed like hours that they were cooped up in that room, the thieves outside consulting in hushed whispers. They were making ransom demands, but it seemed they were still waiting on an answer.

'I'm fucking sick of this!' one of the thieves shouted, in a gruff, raspy voice.

'Be patient,' one of the other thieves chided him.

'I'll be patient if I can bash one of these little hostages up,' he grunted.

'Sure,' said the boss. 'You take your pick. If it'll cool you down. And maybe we can take a photo of him afterwards to show the authorities we're not messing around.'

The angry thief grinned evilly.

'I'll enjoy this,' he said. He burst into the room and the hostages flinched, having heard the conversation outside the room.

'Who wants to get hurt?' he asked, a glimmer of sadistic glee sparkling in his eyes. Various 'please no's and screams erupted from the crowd. Marik tried to hide his face and not attract any attention. From what he knew, they always picked on the ones that showed their fear loudly.

'You,' said the thief gruffly, and to Marik's horror, he felt the thief grab him by his collar and lift him off the ground. Marik couldn't believe his bad luck. Out of all the people in the room, _he_ was the one that was going to get bashed up. He truly did have some sort of curse. First Bakura, now a bank hold up...

Marik gulped, and tried not to scream as the thief dragged him out of the room. He heard a gun being loaded behind him and pressed to the back of his neck.

'That room over there,' the thief said, pointing to a smaller conference room. There was something unusually familiar about the thief's voice...

Marik opened the door carefully, and the thief shoved him violently in. Marik fell to the floor and scrambled back. He refused to beg for mercy, however, simply glaring up at the man.

'You're sick,' Marik declared. The man approached him, Marik crawled backwards but not fast enough. The man leaned in, and drew a knife from his belt. Marik gasped. This man didn't just have a gun, he had a knife too. He was really in big trouble now. The man pressed the knife close to Marik's neck.

'I would call it brilliant, but sure, I can be sick if you want me to be,' said the man.

Marik had a sudden sense of déjà vu. Hadn't he had this conversation somewhere before, with the same gruff voice...

'Bakura?' he exclaimed.

The man removed the balaclava and sure enough, a mass of white hair emerged and the same evil smirk that Marik knew all too well.

'What the hell?' shouted Marik. Bakura slapped a hand over his mouth.

'Sh!' Bakura hissed.

'What the hell?' whispered Marik furiously. 'Don't tell me you fucking held up the bank for the $10,000?'

'Of course not,' snapped Bakura. 'I was with you beforehand, remember? How could I?'

'Then – then how come you're with them?' Marik asked.

'Well, while I was in the toilet, throwing up because you made me sick, some guy with a gun came in and started threatening me and this other guy. I realised the bank was being held up. Being the brilliant thief that I am, I thought, hey, here's an awesome opportunity. I overpowered him, knocked him out, hid him in one of the cubicles. Don't worry, he won't be waking up for a few days yet. He had the same sort of voice that I did, slight British accent too, if we were all wearing balaclavas there's no way the others would be able to tell the difference. Plus, you know, under extreme stress, humans aren't as capable of doing normal things like recognising voices or eyes very well. You may think these thieves have everything under control, but really they're on edge and any little thing could tip them over the edge.'

'Okay, you are officially the dumbest retard I have ever met,' said Marik, thoroughly unimpressed. 'You're taking this massive gamble, pretending to be a thief – for what?'

'Oh, so I can steal their takings,' said Bakura evilly.

'And how do you propose to do that?' Marik asked huffily.

'Okay, you've never robbed a bank before, so I'll tell you the deal. These guys negotiate, the police, because they're scared for all these poor hostages, agree to give up the money, they do things in little dribs and drabs, you know, exchange half the hostages for half the money, trying to tire out the thieves and make them lower their guard. So, obviously, these guys are going for the jackpot, I don't know how much this bank holds but I reckon about a million in cash at the moment? Half would be more than enough for our purposes. But obviously, even if I got the money, I couldn't exactly just run out of the bank. 1. The others would shoot me dead, and 2. The police would go after me.'

'So basically, you're screwed,' said Marik, seething. Bakura was insanely stupid.

'No,' said Bakura. 'I've got a plan.'

'Woopdedoo,' Marik said sarcastically. 'What's the plan?'

'Okay, so I'm going to go and do the negotiations with the police, we'll release a few hostages. One of which will be you.'

'That's a good start,' said Marik.

'You won't be released with the others, though. I'll let you go out of one of the back exits, where the police won't find you. Because if they do, there'll be all sorts of eyewitness reports and shit that you'll have to fill out and they'll take you down to the police station and things will just get messy. After I release you, I need you to steal a car.'

'No fucking way,' Marik said firmly.

'Oh come on, Marik,' said Bakura, irritated. 'It'll be easy enough, all the police in this area are concentrating on this building. Just threaten someone, I'm sure you can pull it off.'

'I don't want to,' Marik said.

Bakura grabbed Marik by the collar and shook him.

'Marik, just bloody listen to me and do what I say!' Bakura shouted. 'You steal a car. Park it about a street away, behind the bank. I'll grab the money, climb out through one of the windows and make it down there to you. We'll drive away, with the money. Do it or I explode the bomb,' Bakura threatened.

Marik sighed.

'Fine, I'll do it,' he said.

'Good,' said Bakura. 'Unfortunately, I do actually have to bash you up...'

'What?' hissed Marik.

'I told the others I needed to bash someone up! If you come back unhurt, they'll be suspicious,' said Bakura.

'You idiot,' said Marik. 'Why didn't you just say you needed to threaten one of the hostages – verbally?'

'Oh, I have an insane urge to threaten a hostage verbally,' said Bakura sarcastically. 'Yeah, that would have totally worked. Don't worry, I'll only give you surface wounds. I won't break any bones. It'll heal in a week, maximum.'

'I still have bruises from yesterday,' Marik complained.

'Stop being such a baby,' said Bakura. 'Just scream loudly to add to the effect.'

'I don't really have a choice, do I?' Marik asked, sighing.

'Not really,' said Bakura.

'Don't touch my face, okay?' Marik said, finally.

'Okay, pretty boy,' Bakura teased.

Marik curled up into a ball on the floor and winced as Bakura kicked him in the stomach. Bakura was stronger than he remembered... He screamed loudly, as instructed. Even though Bakura said he was only inflicting "surface wounds", Marik was still hurting a fair bit. Though he noted that perhaps Bakura wasn't giving it his all – this didn't hurt half as much as when his father used to beat him, and Bakura was twice Marik's late father's size...

Bakura grabbed Marik's collar and slammed him against a wall, their faces almost touching.

'You done yet?' Marik rasped.

'Just about,' said Bakura. 'You've got a pretty good coverage of bruises. I was afraid your tanned skin wouldn't show them.'

'I hate you,' hissed Marik.

'Love you too, darling,' said Bakura sarcastically. 'It's time to go back.' He pulled his balaclava back on.

Bakura slung Marik over his shoulder effortlessly, and walked back to the other conference room. Marik dangled upside down, all the blood rushing to his head, and he felt slightly dizzy...

Next thing he knew he had been flung back into the room full of hostages. He landed on the floor and sharp pain racked through his body. He cursed Bakura in his head. The other hostages scurried away from him, as if he had a deadly disease or something.

'Satisfied?' the boss asked Bakura.

'Just about,' said Bakura.

Marik sighed. It was another couple of long hours, this time in a considerable amount of pain.


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, here's the next chapter! :) Marik and Bakura spend their first night together (don't get too excited, it's nothing _bad_) ;P.

Here you go! I hope you guys enjoy it :)

-Lauren

PS. I hate to plug, but if you like Thiefshipping, I'd love it if you checked out my other story, **Thief!**. It's a set of thiefshipping oneshots, I've got two on there at the moment, and am coming up with another one inspired by the FIFA World Cup. Speaking of the World Cup, is anyone else watching? I've hardly been able to stay awake at school after watching the soccer at night! :)

x.x.x

'Okay, which six of you want to get out of here?' Bakura asked the crowd. Marik smiled. It was about time, too. They had been negotiating for hours, and in addition to all his other injuries, Marik's bum was starting to hurt from sitting on the hard floor.

The whole room perked up, but didn't want to make a sound just in case they were shot. One mother spoke up, however.

'Please, I have three children at home –' she pleaded.

'Okay fine, charity case number 1, up,' said Bakura gruffly. He proceeded to pick four other hostages to release. He stepped closer to Marik, and grabbed him by his collar again.

'And I think our little damaged one over here would give the authorities quite a rude shock,' said Bakura evilly. Marik let himself be dragged out of the room once again. Once all six hostages were outside, Bakura slammed the door.

'Downstairs,' he ordered. 'If any one of you tries to run, I'll shoot,' he threatened. Slowly they all walked downstairs, until they were out of earshot of the other thieves.

'Okay, now listen carefully,' whispered Bakura. 'I will let you guys out, but only if you do exactly as I say. You speak a word, I shoot.'

The hostages nodded.

'I'm going to let this guy out the back,' Bakura said, indicating to Marik, 'then let the rest of you out the front. Don't ask me why. Just follow me and shut up.'

They nodded again. They were too close to freedom to question him.

They walked to the toilets, and Bakura stealthily removed one of the glass panes from the window, without breaking it, and lay it silently on the ground. Marik was impressed. Bakura was quite skilful.

'Climb out here,' he whispered. 'And steal a nice car, for God's sakes.'

With that, Bakura hustled the rest of the hostages out and Marik climbed out of the window to freedom.

He wasn't really free, though. Now he had to steal a car. Marik panicked. He didn't know how to steal a car – he was only good at stealing Duel Monsters cards! He used his instincts, spotted a rich businessman walking briskly down the street, and followed him.

Marik stayed a few paces behind, so as not to attract attention. He was heavily suspicious at the moment, being heavily bruised. Luckily there was no one else around.

To Marik's delight, the man pulled his keys out of his pocket and pressed a button – a couple of metres ahead, a car's rear lights blinked. Perfect.

Marik quickened his pace a little bit, until he was right behind the man, then hooked his arm around quickly and held the man by his neck. The man struggled and tried to scream, but Marik used his other hand to cover his mouth.

'Don't make a sound,' Marik warned threateningly. 'Give me your car keys, and I won't kill you. When I let you go, you walk away in the opposite direction until I can't see you anymore. Understood?'

The man nodded, scared. He held up the car keys in his hand. Marik snatched them quickly away from him, spun the man around and shoved him away roughly. The man did as told, and walked away. Marik smiled. The car was a black Mercedes E class – was that nice enough for Bakura's tastes? He opened the door, and stepped into the car, satisfied. Stealing was more fun than he remembered.

He put the keys in the ignition, started the car up and it purred gently. Marik smiled again, pulling away from the kerb and accelerating off down the street. As instructed, he parked his car (well, it wasn't really _his_ car, but it was now) a street away, behind the bank, and waited.

And waited. And waited. Bakura sure knew how to take his time. Marik hoped that there wouldn't be police scouting around the back. They were in the middle of negotiating, though, they shouldn't be focusing too much on the surrounding streets.

Finally, he saw a masked man turn around the corner and recognised the stature of Bakura. Marik flashed his lights and Bakura walked quickly over, opening the car door and stepping inside. Marik revved the engine and they made their getaway.

'Proud of me?' Marik asked Bakura, as he removed the balaclava.

'Quite,' said Bakura, smirking. 'It's even got tinted windows.'

Marik smiled happily.

'You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?' Bakura said, looking at Marik intensely.

'No,' Marik lied.

'You are,' Bakura said. 'You've remembered the thrill of adventure and danger.'

'No, I haven't,' Marik argued.

Bakura chuckled.

'I knew you'd come around eventually,' said Bakura.

'I am not enjoying this!' Marik protested. 'For one thing, we could get chucked in jail for this whole thing!'

'Nobody's going to know it was us, Marik,' said Bakura, smiling. 'We just committed a perfect crime. Nobody knows you. Nobody counted the hostages. The thieves think I'm someone else. When they realise I'm gone, they'll blame their partner. When they find him in the bathroom, they'll realise they were fooled – by a complete stranger.'

Marik found himself grinning despite everything.

'I'm still hurting, you know,' Marik complained. 'I was sitting on my butt for hours with all the bruises you gave me.'

'Hey, don't complain,' said Bakura. 'Girls _beg_ to be bruised and beaten by me.'

'You sick bastard,' said Marik. 'I can't believe anyone would sleep with you.'

'This coming from little virgin Marik,' Bakura teased.

Marik scowled.

'Where are we going, anyway?' Marik asked.

'Well, probably not the best idea to go back to your place,' said Bakura. 'Your sister would have a fit and then there'd be all sorts of questions.'

'Yeah,' said Marik.

'Look, ring Ishizu and tell her you're sleeping over at Yugi's or something,' said Bakura. 'We'll go back to that old warehouse.'

'What old warehouse?' Marik asked.

'That old warehouse, you know, the one you used to brainwash Tea and Joey back in Battle City,' said Bakura.

'I'd totally forgotten about that place!' Marik exclaimed. 'But good idea.'

'I always have good ideas,' said Bakura proudly.

'Oh please,' said Marik. 'If it weren't for me, you'd be dead meat. You'd be a man on the run, with a whole bunch of cash, and no escape vehicle.'

'If it weren't for me, you'd probably be dead and shot to pieces by those thieves,' said Bakura. 'If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be $100,000 richer.'

'If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be black and blue all over!' Marik said.

They dumped the car in an abandoned alleyway a few streets away, wiped all the prints off the car doors, the wheel, and the seats, pulled off the license plates, wiped them clean and chucked them in the bin.

They walked to the warehouse, as if nothing had happened.

'God, your skin looks hideous in the sun,' Bakura commented. 'I can see all the shades of purple and black and blue and everything.'

'And whose fault is that?' Marik asked.

They approached the front of the building, and it looked as deserted as ever.

'I didn't keep the key for this place,' said Marik, staring at the door.

'No need,' said Bakura. He took out a bobby pin and wriggled it around in the lock for a few seconds, and then the door swung open. Bakura smirked, superiority seeping from his skin.

'You're a bloody show off,' said Marik, pushing past Bakura.

The place really had been abandoned. Everything was covered in a layer of dust, and the old empty wooden boxes still were stacked up around the place. It was amazing. Who did this place belong to, anyway?

Marik, distracted by the sunlight seeping in through small windows a couple of metres high, didn't see the cardboard box at his feet and tripped over, falling to the ground. Marik groaned in pain. He felt his knees graze and he hit his arm on the floor as he fell.

'You are unbelievable,' Bakura said.

'I – I didn't see the box there,' said Marik, wincing in pain. He held his arm as he tried to sit up. To his horror, he felt blood sticking to his fingers.

Bakura crouched down beside him.

'Let me have a look,' said Bakura, holding Marik's arm in his hands. 'You just opened up some of the wounds in the fall,' he said, unfazed by all the blood.

'Oh, goodie,' said Marik. 'It hurts like hell. And my knees are bleeding too. And I think I twisted my ankle.'

'Oh, did little baby Marik skin his knees?' Bakura asked, in his most sickly sweet baby voice.

'Just find me some bloody bandaids, and a bandage for my ankle,' Marik grunted.

'There aren't any around,' said Bakura. 'I'll head down to the nearest convenience store and get some for you. Got any cash?'

'You're carrying $100,000 in cash in that duffel bag of yours, and you're asking me for cash?' Marik asked scathingly.

'I'm not going to use that cash, you dimwit,' said Bakura. 'The police have probably got the codes of every single bill in there, waiting to pounce when we try to cash them in somewhere.'

'Then how the hell are we going to use them?' Marik asked, irately.

'Oh, we'll swap some at the airport. There's so much foreign cash around there, it'll take ages for them to pick up. Plus, if we cash it in Egypt, even better. They'll never get their hands on it then. It'll be lost across the borders of countries.'

'Here's $10,' said Marik, irritated, shoving the note into Bakura's hand.

'Be back soon,' said Bakura, winking at Marik. Marik scowled and applied pressure to his arm to stop it from bleeding more.

Bakura was back soon, with a plastic bag of bandaids, bandages, some alcohol swabs, disinfectant – the whole works. Also two quarter pounders, two large fries and two cans of coke in a McDonald's bag.

'You got all that for $10?' Marik asked scrutinisingly.

'Sure,' said Bakura.

'Yeah right,' said Marik. 'Haven't you done enough stealing for one day?'

'I didn't steal them,' insisted Bakura. 'I mean, the woman at the convenience store was practically weeping when I told her the story of my poor friend getting bashed up, and all it took was a little bit of flirting and the teenage girl at Maccas practically shoved this at me.'

Marik stared in disbelief.

'Oh, and I found $10 by the side of the road, here you go,' said Bakura, smirking. Marik snatched the $10 note from Bakura and huffed in irritation.

Bakura sat down next to Marik and inspected the wounds.

'Wow, I've got a good punch,' said Bakura proudly, admiring his handiwork.

'Oh shut the hell up,' snapped Marik.

'Alright, Mr Grouchy,' said Bakura, smirking. 'Just let me use the alcohol swabs so it doesn't get infected...'

Marik felt something cold being run past his arm, and it stung. Marik cried out.

'OUCH! What the hell was that?' Marik complained.

'Alcohol swab,' said Bakura happily. Was he enjoying seeing Marik in pain?

Marik sat still while Bakura applied the bandages. Bakura's hands were unexpectedly warm against Marik's skin, which was starting to develop goose bumps as the night progressed. It was actually quite nice to have Bakura touching him... And his hands were so steady. They had a firm purposefulness to them, not clumsy at all.

'You're shivering, Marik,' said Bakura dryly, breaking the silence between them. He drew away – all Marik's wounds were tended to.

'Yeah well, it's bloody cold, isn't it?' snapped Marik. He wasn't really irritable, he just felt slightly odd at enjoying Bakura's touch and dealt with it by putting on a cold front.

'Have this,' said Bakura gruffly, taking off the shirt that he wore over his striped t-shirt and chucking it at Marik.

'I don't want it,' Marik said. He wouldn't be treated like a kid – not by Bakura!

'Oh, so you'd rather your fingers and toes froze off?' Bakura asked. He took the shirt and draped it around Marik. The shivering stopped, as Marik slipped his arms in. Bakura smiled triumphantly.

'Do you want someone to tuck you in as well?' Bakura teased, smirking.

'I'm not a baby,' said Marik. He tried to stand up, but his ankle wouldn't hold his weight. He faltered, but Bakura grabbed his arm firmly and caught him.

'You're the stupidest villain I've ever met,' said Bakura. 'Sit back down.' Marik used Bakura to steady himself and sat back down slowly.

'I can't believe you,' said Bakura. 'You help me steal $100,000, easy, no problems there. You face up against a cardboard box, and end up grazing your knees and arm, and twisting your ankle.'

Marik scowled.

Bakura unpacked the food, and handed Marik his half. Grateful, Marik dug in. He was quite hungry, surprisingly.

'How are we going to sleep in this dump?' Marik asked. 'There aren't any beds around.'

'Oh, don't worry, I'll just duck into the nearest Ikea and steal a mattress,' said Bakura sarcastically. 'Just sleep on the floor, dumbass.'

'I'm sore all over, I don't feel like waking up tomorrow with a new set of bruises,' Marik whined.

'Sleep on the cardboard boxes then,' said Bakura. 'Oh wait, be careful, they might trip you over in the middle of the night!' Bakura teased.

'Oh shut the hell up,' said Marik tetchily. He took another bite of the burger, revelling in all its fatty, artificial goodness. Bakura watched him eat, smiling.

'Oh fine, I can see you complaining with your eyes, I'll go and grab some blankets for the night,' said Bakura, and before Marik could complain some more about him stealing again, Bakura was gone.

Marik, frustrated that he couldn't move, bit into his burger savagely. This was not going to be a comfortable night. How did this happen, anyway? All Bakura had wanted was to go out for lunch, then they were at the bank, they got held up, Marik got bashed up, and now they were $100,000 richer but sleeping in this old abandoned warehouse. What the hell? Marik hadn't planned any of this.

Bakura returned, with a bunch of perfectly folded blankets in his hands.

'Couldn't get the mattress, Ikea was closed, but I thought these might help,' he said.

'Where'd you get them?' Marik asked.

'Some random's linen closet. They won't even miss them – they weren't using them.'

'Pass me the thick one,' Marik ordered.

'Nope,' said Bakura, 'I stole them, I get first pick.'

'I would have helped you steal them if you hadn't bashed me up!' Marik grumbled.

'Ahem, correction, you would have helped me steal them had you not been an absolute klutz and tripped over and twisted your ankle.'

Marik huffed, annoyed. Bakura chucked him the thinner blanket, and Marik wrapped it around himself, lying down.

'Good night, loser,' said Bakura.

'You're an asshole,' said Marik. Bakura just smiled. The two of them went to sleep a few metres from each other, backs turned.

Marik shivered a little. The night was getting cold and he was not comfortable. He kept fidgeting, but he had bruises all over him and could not find a comfortable position. Worst of all, he might have been catching a cold. He sniffled slightly.

'Oh in the name of Ra!' Bakura shouted, jumping up and throwing the blanket from him. 'You are absolutely insufferable! Stop fidgeting! Stop sniffling!'

Marik opened his eyes reluctantly and saw Bakura standing over him, hands on hips, clearly unhappy.

'Not my fault,' muttered Marik.

Bakura, irritated, chucked the blanket and Marik and started pacing around the room.

Marik was too tired and cold to refuse the blanket, so he took it and immediately felt warmer. He was so exhausted... and a couple of minutes later he had fallen asleep, content.

Bakura heard Marik's heavy breathing and sighed with relief. Marik was finally asleep. That meant he could get some sleep as well. Bakura watched Marik for a while, intrigued by the way his small form rose and fell.

'Pathetic,' muttered Bakura. Marik looked far too vulnerable to be a villain, more like some little mummy's boy. He clucked with irritation when Marik turned over and muttered. Surely he had not woken up again!

But when Bakura crouched down and leaned in closer, he realised. Marik hadn't woken up – he was sleep talking. Bakura listened intently.

'I – no – stop! Please! Leave me alone...' Marik was tossing and turning, and a cold sweat was forming on his face. Bakura lightly lay his hand across Marik's forehead – he was burning up. What was happening to him?

_There it was, the thorny maze. Marik ran, paying no regard to the direction he went in, he just knew that he needed to run, to get away, otherwise terrible things would happen... The horrible cackling in the distance sent shivers down Marik's spine. He kept running, but then he tripped over, and as he turned around, there he was: his evil twin, with flaming eyes and hair whipped up by the wind._

'_You can't escape me, Marik,' Yami Marik growled. _

'_Leave me alone,' Marik said, backing away. 'I-I'll kill you!' he threatened._

'_Oh, will you now?' mocked Yami Marik. 'Standing up to the big bad wolf?'_

'_Don't touch me,' Marik warned. _

'_Or what?' Yami Marik grinned. 'It's not like your friend is going to help you... who was it? Bakura? You know he isn't really your friend, right? He threatened you, he bashed you, and guess what? He's working with me.' _

'_No,' said Marik, staring in disbelief. 'No.'_

_He looked up, and sure enough, behind Yami Marik a white-haired figure approached. Bakura smirked._

'_He's not your friend,' Yami Marik said viciously, 'he's my friend. Bakura, could you teach Marik a lesson for me?' Yami Marik asked._

'_With pleasure,' said Bakura, smirking. He kicked Marik in the stomach, and Marik curled up, trying to fight him off, but every blow stung more than the last..._

'MARIK ISHTAR!' shouted a loud voice. Marik woke with a start, sweating, panting, with tears running down his face. He looked up, and Bakura was crouching over him, intense brown eyes watching him intently.

Marik suddenly realised that he must have been talking in his sleep, and Bakura must have heard him.

'What are you so scared of, Marik?' Bakura asked, still watching him.

'Nothing,' said Marik dismissively. 'It was just a nightmare.' He turned away from Bakura, and wiped the tears from his face.

'Some nightmare,' said Bakura.

Marik simply grunted, embarrassed that Bakura had seen him like this.

'I'm going back to sleep,' Marik declared, turning back over.

'Not too scared of the bogey monster?' Bakura teased. Marik huffed in irritation and ignored Bakura. Bakura stood up and crossed his arms, thinking. Something had really shaken his partner, badly. Bakura wondered what it was... Marik wasn't the best villain but he certainly wasn't soft. It would take something quite considerable to scare the boy.

The thought train floated into the wind as Bakura lay down on the cold hard ground and slept.


	5. Chapter 5

Here's the next chapter :) Hope you guys like it!

-Lauren

x.x.x

Marik awoke to the aroma of coffee. Immediately he sat up, as the sun creeping in through the windows warmed him.

'Got breakfast,' said Bakura, stepping out of the shadows to face Marik. 'I hope you like Bacon and Egg McMuffins.'

For an ancient Egyptian spirit, Bakura had really embraced fast food.

All the better for Marik, though. He ate the McMuffin ravenously and gulped down the coffee, feeling rejuvenated.

'Can you get up?' asked Bakura.

'I don't know,' said Marik. He was propping himself up by his hands. He attempted to get up, using the weight of one leg, but he faltered and fell back on his ass.

'You're useless,' said Bakura. 'Your ankle had better just be twisted, I can't wait ages for this to heal.'

'Well it's not really my fault, is it?' Marik snapped. 'Anyway there's nothing I can do about it now.'

'Well we're not hanging out in this dump just because you twisted your ankle,' said Bakura. 'Here, get up,' he said, offering Marik his hand. Marik wanted to slap it away, but he knew that getting up on his own was near impossible. He allowed Bakura to pull him up.

Bakura took Marik's arm and slung it around his own shoulder.

'Look, you just limp and I'll carry the rest of your weight,' said Bakura gruffly.

'Where are we going?' Marik asked.

'To the doctor's,' said Bakura. 'To see how long it will take to heal, and maybe get some crutches.'

'Oh,' said Marik. 'And how are you going to explain all these damn bruises?'

A smirk spread slowly across Bakura's face. Marik had a sense that he was not going to like this.

'Experiments of a... sexual nature,' Bakura said evilly.

'HELL NO!' Marik protested, but Bakura was already dragging him towards the train station.

x.x.x

As they approached the outside of the doctor's office, Bakura slung an arm around Marik's shoulders.

'I AM NOT PRETENDING TO BE YOUR BOYFRIEN–' Marik roared, but immediately shut up as Bakura pushed open the door to the clinic.

Bakura helped Marik limp over to the receptionist's desk.

'Are you, um, Mr Ishtar?' the receptionist asked.

'Yes,' Marik said.

'Okay, Dr Mizuya will only be a few minutes, please take a seat.'

Marik limped back over to the seats and sat down next to a stack of trashy, glossy magazines. The other patients in the surgery tried to avoid Marik's gaze but he knew they were all staring at his bruised body. Marik cursed Bakura. How long would these bruises take to heal?

'Hey, this girl's tan looks like yours,' commented Bakura, pointing to a particularly unflattering picture of Ashlee Simpson with a spray tan.

'At least I'm not a bloody pasty,' Marik spat back.

'Mr Ishtar?' asked the receptionist, interrupting their bitch session.

'Yes,' said Marik. Together they limped to the doctor's office, where a very surprised Dr Mizuya met the two.

The doctor was lost for words, and obviously didn't know where to start, simply looking Marik up and down, confusion writ clear across his face.

'I'm here about my ankle,' said Marik.

'Right, right,' said Dr Mizuya, slightly shaken. 'Can you lift your leg up for me?'

Marik did as asked, and the doctor unwrapped the bandages around his ankle. Bakura was sitting in the corner on a chair, crossing his arms and looking bored.

'Ah, it seems you've simply twisted it. In a couple of days, it should be fine. Just keep it bandaged up.'

'Thank you,' said Marik, nodding at the doctor.

'Um, I can't help asking about these wounds...' said the doctor, indicating to Marik's bare arms. Marik heard Bakura clear his throat, but Marik cut in quickly.

'I had an accident on my motorbike,' Marik said hastily.

The doctor nodded.

'Well it looks like someone's disinfected the wounds for you,' Bakura coughed from his place in the corner, 'which is good. Is the motorbike accident how you twisted your ankle?'

'Yeah,' lied Marik.

'Well, you're lucky you didn't get a concussion to your head, by the severity of the wounds.' Bakura coughed again.

'Yeah,' agreed Marik.

'Anyway, here's some extra bandages, and a pair of crutches so you can get around in the time being,' said the doctor, handing Marik the bandages and crutches, 'you should be fine in the next two or three days.'

They left the doctor's office and when they were outside, Bakura spoke up.

'Did you hear that? _Severity_ of the wounds,' he said proudly.

'You're pleased with yourself?' Sicko,' said Marik distastefully. 'Where are we going now, anyway? I'm sick of hiding out in that old warehouse.'

'Well, if you lock yourself in your room and refuse to let Ishizu in, she may not notice that you're black and blue all over,' said Bakura.

'That's not helpful,' said Marik. 'I could tell her that I fell over,' Marik suggested.

'You _did_ fall over,' Bakura pointed out. Marik scowled.

'You're really not helping,' Marik complained.

'Oh, I have an idea,' said Bakura, gleefully. He had an evil glint in his eyes, and Marik didn't like it.

Ten minutes later, Bakura returned with a can of spray on tan.

'No. Way,' said Marik firmly.

'As if you don't use this rubbish anyway,' Bakura said.

'I will have you know that my skin is 100% natural!' Marik argued angrily.

'You're such a bloody girl, Marik. You should be on one of those beauty ads. This tan is 100% natural!' drawled Bakura. 'Oh come on.' He shook the can, and smiled at Marik. 'Ready?' he asked.

Marik sighed and closed his eyes.

'Don't get any on my clothes,' he warned. The spray hit him like the cold sea spray, Marik tried to sit still but it was an incredibly uncomfortable experience.

'Okay... almost done,' said Bakura. 'There.'

Marik opened his eyes. His skin was a ridiculous shade of orange – his eyes widened in horror. He looked like an Oompa Loompa!

'Oh come on,' said Bakura, 'it hardly looks any different to what your skin was before.'

'Urgh,' said Marik. 'I really really hate you.'

x.x.x

'How was your stay at Yugi's?' Ishizu asked Marik. Marik felt jittery. Surely his sister would notice that his skin was bright orange... to his surprise, Ishizu didn't even blink an eyelid.

'It was fine,' said Marik, putting on a fake smile. Bakura was upstairs, in Marik's room. Marik felt wary of leaving Bakura alone in his room, but he couldn't help it. Bakura was probably going through his stuff at this very moment – and stealing stuff, as well. He was a thief, after all.

'That's good,' said Ishizu. 'Yugi's such a nice boy. What did you two get up to?'

What was this, an interrogation? Oh, whoops sis, I meant I was with Bakura, we stole $100,000 from some guys who held up a bank, and we slept in some abandoned warehouse and I twisted my ankle. Marik sighed.

Luckily Marik was sitting down and had removed the bandages, so Ishizu wouldn't notice his twisted ankle.

'Just played some Duel Monsters, did some homework, that kind of stuff,' said Marik casually.

'Okay. Marik, I think I'll be out tonight, I'm going to be visiting a friend, I'll be back sometime tomorrow. Is that ok?' Ishizu said.

'Of course,' said Marik. 'Why do you have to ask for my permission?'

'Just cause you're my little brother, and I'm meant to be looking after you,' said Ishizu, smiling.

'I can look after myself,' Marik said, smiling back at his big sister.

When Ishizu left, Marik breathed a sigh of relief. He waited for the solid clunk of the front door being closed, waited a few more seconds for safety, then called out –

'BAKURA!'

Bakura descended the stairs with an almighty smirk painted across his face. Marik was uneasy – whenever Bakura was happy with himself, something bad was bound to have happened.

'Here are your crutches, Mr Paralympics,' said Bakura, handing over the crutches. Marik grunted and snatched them from Bakura, standing up and hopping over.

'What are you so happy about?' Marik asked, suspicious.

'Nothing in particular,' lied Bakura. Marik was sure that Bakura was up to something, now. 'Did you tell your darling sister about your "school trip"?'

'No,' said Marik. 'By the way, when are we leaving exactly? You know we have to book tickets ahead of time.'

'Oh? And whose credit card were you planning to do that with?' Bakura said sarcastically. 'Look, we can't book them ahead of time. We just have to get to the airport, change the money, buy the tickets from the airport, and head out of there.'

'We might not get a flight,' Marik warned.

'We will get a flight,' said Bakura.

'So when are we leaving?' Marik snapped, irritated.

'Whenever you like,' said Bakura. 'Sometime in the next week.'

'You expect me to break the news to Ishizu and take off a few days later?' Marik asked incredulously.

'Well, yeah,' said Bakura.

'No way,' said Marik. 'She won't buy it. Give her at least a week to take in the information.'

'We can't be wasting time,' snapped Bakura.

'Well, if you want me to say "hey Ishizu by the way I'm leaving for Egypt tomorrow", we'll be wasting a hell of a lot of time because then I won't have her permission to go, and no bloody bomb is going to change that fact!' argued Marik. Bakura groaned.

'Fine. You tell her this week, then a week from then, we leave,' Bakura said, sighing.

The silent irritation that was oozing from Marik was interrupted by the phone ringing. Marik jumped up, and picked up the phone. Bakura sidled over, leaning in to listen to the conversation.

'Hello?' Marik asked, in a cool, pleasant voice. It was not riddled with irritation, as Marik's voice so often was when he talked to Bakura. Bakura noticed the change, and was intrigued.

'Hi Marik,' said the light voice.

'Oh, Yugi, hi!' said Marik, with high-pitched enthusiasm that made Bakura flinch.

'How are you?' asked Yugi sweetly.

'I'm fine thanks,' said Marik, smiling. Bakura's eyebrows rose. This was very odd behaviour for Marik.

'I just called because Ishizu called me earlier to ask whether you had left my house yet,' said Yugi airily. Marik's smile quickly dissolved. He pulled the phone away, covered the mouthpiece, and hissed,

'SHIT!'

Bakura smirked.

'Um, Marik?' asked Yugi.

'Yep?' said Marik innocently, snapping back into good boy mode.

'I told her that you had left already. Did you say you were at my house to cover for something?'

Marik breathed a sigh of relief. So Yugi did have _some_ brains.

'Yes, yes, I did. Thanks heaps, Yugi.'

'That's alright, Marik,' said Yugi. 'What were you covering for, by the way?'

'Um...' Marik hesitated. He wasn't good at coming up with lies on the spot.

'You were on a date,' suggested Bakura softly.

'I-I was on a date,' said Marik quickly.

'An overnight date?' Yugi asked.

'Well, you know me,' said Marik cheekily.

'Really?' asked Yugi naively, giggling.

'Yeah,' said Marik, his eyes glinting with mischief.

'Who was it?' asked Yugi.

'Nobody you know,' Marik said evasively. 'Oh and Yugi?'

'Yes Marik?'

'I'm probably going away the week after next, if Ishizu rings you, just confirm that I did in fact leave.'

'What's up, Marik?' Yugi, for all his naivety, realised that something was not quite right.

'Nothing, I'm just going away for a bit, that's all,' said Marik, trying to sound calm, but Bakura was glaring at him.

'How long will you be gone?' Yugi asked.

'A couple of weeks?' Marik said hesitantly. He was trying to be as vague as possible – who knows where Bakura's Egyptian adventure would take them?

'Ok, sure. Reckon we can meet up before you leave?' Yugi asked sweetly.

'Sure thing,' said Marik, smiling. 'Anyway, I've got to go. I'll talk to you later!'

'Bye Marik!'

As soon as Marik hung up the phone, he breathed a deep sigh of relief. He turned around to find Bakura with a look of absolute disgust on his face. Bakura crossed his arms and frowned at Marik.

'What?' Marik asked innocently.

'You're sickening,' said Bakura. 'You're friends with Yugi and his gang now, and you're turning into one of them. You sound like you're one of Yugi's bloody sidekicks.'

'Oh come on,' said Marik, the smile he had put on for Yugi dissolving immediately. Bakura noticed the "pretty boy" Marik disappearing and being replaced with the face of the evil Marik he knew so well, and smirked a little. 'I have to be nice to them. You know, I'm the evil villain reformed.'

'Well you're doing a pretty good job of it,' said Bakura. 'Could have fooled me.'

'Give it a break,' said Marik, sighing. Being with Bakura 24/7 was wearing his patience thin. Nobody else managed to annoy Marik as effectively and effortlessly as Bakura did. Bakura had perfected it to an art, really.

'So what are we doing tonight?' Bakura asked, flopping down on Marik's couch and resting his hands behind his head.

'"We" are not doing anything,' said Marik, huffy. 'You're going to leave. I'm going to relax, watch some TV, have some instant noodles for dinner.'

'Trying to get rid of me, are you?' asked Bakura cheekily.

'Yes, I am,' said Marik, sighing. He was too tired to try and lie to Bakura.

'Alright then,' said Bakura, shrugging. Marik stared at Bakura quizzically. Had Bakura really agreed so easily? Marik had expected a couple of cutting remarks, possibly escalating into a heated argument, and by that time, Marik would have given up and just turned on the TV, turned up the volume and ignored Bakura. But now Bakura was giving in? Good, thought Marik, less work for me.

Bakura stood up, and started to put his joggers back on at the front door. Marik watched him, puzzled. Bakura looked almost... belligerent? Just like a normal teenager. (A very handsome one, but a normal teen nonetheless. Not a crazy evil spirit that was a couple of thousand years old and very possibly was hell bent on destroying the world.)

'Will you come back tomorrow?' Marik couldn't help asking, as he unlocked the door for Bakura. He was thrown by how easily it had been to get rid of Bakura.

'Do you want me back tomorrow?' asked Bakura. Marik was absolutely gobsmacked. For the first time... well, ever, Bakura had spoken without even the slightest hint of sarcasm, derision or mockery. Was this Ryou in disguise, Marik wondered?

'Uh...' Marik wasn't sure if he wanted Bakura back or not. It would be nice to have the thief out of his hair for a couple of days. 'Nope. I'll ring you when Ishizu says that I can go to Egypt.'

'Sure,' said Bakura, shrugging again.

Bakura was walking out of the house, and Marik was utterly confused. And then, Bakura turned around, smirked at Marik, all the evilness returning to his face, and Bakura winked.

Marik shook his head and shut the door. Bakura was a mystery, alright.

Marik limped back to the couch, lay down and turned on the TV, ready to relax for the first time in weeks. The TV was disappointing, however. There were only a couple of things on at the moment – one channel had a Japanese soap opera on (the acting was painful to watch), another had a romantic drama on (Marik cringed at the main heroine pulling the "damsel in distress" act after she had tripped over), there was a boring show about antiques (some old woman was talking about how valuable some old vase was, Marik yawned and switched the channel), there was a kids cartoon (Marik actually didn't understand what was going on – there was a blue dog and a purple dinosaur and a pink parrot and a yellow cat...) and the Hungarian news.

Hm. Marik turned off the TV and closed his eyes, wanting to go to sleep. But thoughts ran rampant in his mind, and he couldn't settle. Bakura had been awfully strange. Marik supposed there was a reason, but he could not quite work it out. Marik wondered why Ishizu was out for the night. Marik wrote himself a note to remind himself to ring Yugi back. He would have to see Yugi before he left for Egypt. Marik couldn't work out whether he was friends with Yugi or not. A lot of it was pretending – Marik knew that he would never be one of the "good guys", but he also didn't consider himself as evil. He had thrown off the cloak of evil when his dark side had left.

_But have I really left you?_ a voice said.

Marik jumped out of his seat and screamed. He looked around, panicked – had he just heard his Yami speaking? No, he thought, that was nonsense. Yami Marik had disappeared when he had given the Millennium Rod away. He tried to shake himself out of it. It had just been a voice in his head...

_I was just a "voice in your head" right before I took over, too,_ taunted the voice.

Marik jumped up and shook his head. He wasn't going to be scared by these crazy delusions. He got his crutches, and proceeded to climb the stairs to take a shower. He got into the bathroom, stripped in a matter of seconds, chucking his clothes on the floor haphazardly, and turned the shower onto full blast. A nice blast of hot water would clear his thoughts and relax him. Marik waited a few seconds for the water to heat up, then stepped inside.

Marik immediately jumped back out of the shower. The water was icy cold! He shivered and shook his head. The water wasn't ready. He waited a little longer, then dipped his hand in. Marik pulled his hand out of the water stream immediately. It was still cold! Someone must have turned off his hot water system! Now Marik was drenched, cold, and had to head round to the backyard to turn the bloody hot water on. Marik reached over for a towel, but to his surprise, found none. The towel rack was empty.

And right above the rack, on the wall, was a small note in messy handwriting.

"Love, Bakura" the note read.

'FUCK YOU, BAKURA!' Marik shouted, to the empty bathroom.

'When?' a husky voice called. Marik whipped around to find none other than Bakura standing in the doorway. Bakura was just messing with him... and that's why Bakura had been so cheerful as he left!

'You – I – GET OUT! I'M NOT WEARING ANYTHING!' Marik shouted, flustered.

'Oh, that I can see,' said Bakura, smirking, looking Marik up and down.

'GET OUT!' Marik yelled, gathering his clothes and holding them up to shield himself.

Bakura chuckled, and Marik felt intense rage run through him. Bakura was absolutely infuriating!

'You can't get rid of me, Marik,' said Bakura, blowing Marik a kiss as he walked out of the bathroom. Marik slammed the door and swore loudly.

x.x.x


End file.
